


Eat Your Heart Out, Edward Cullen

by Fanhag102



Series: Mind Reading Can Be Such a Pain in the A** [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanhag102/pseuds/Fanhag102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Professor Xavier's a Total Douchebag. </p><p>Derek still hasn't told Stiles that they are probably, maybe, in all likelihood, mates. </p><p>It's impressive he's managed to keep it a secret this long considering Stiles can, you know, read his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eat Your Heart Out, Edward Cullen

**Author's Note:**

> I knooooowww I swore over and over again (the amount of times I swore is embarrassing and I won’t even tell you) that I would never do a sequel to Professor Xavier……… whoops. Don’t even think of this as a sequel, it’s really an epilogue since everyone loves the fic so much. 
> 
> And since it's the holidays, you can think of this as my holiday gift to you! Enjoy!

Derek Hale’s day has been, to put it mildly, pretty shitty.

Hell, he’d been to _jail_ before _noon_.

He should have known the day was going to be a long one when his sister woke him at ungodly hours to go break into a highly guarded lab facility she’d been trying to track down for months.

“I finally got them, Der!”

“What’dyouget?” he mumbled, squinting in the suddenly bright room at his sister standing over his bed. She knew she didn’t have to answer out loud; Derek’s control was always weakest when he was tired. Her thoughts flowed easily into his mind, an exited but jumbled mess of building schematics and guard rotations and easiest entrances and exits and…

“No, Laura, not after last time. The rubber duck factory, remember?”

“I’m serious Derek, I really got them this time. The _right_ lab! There’s mutants inside those buildings right now probably being tested on and held captive and it’s only like two hours away if we take your car. Come on!”

“You really think these people are testing on mutants?” he asked skeptically. It was a big name company and his sister had been known to jump the gun a little bit when it came to mutant rights.

“Yes! Positive. Come on, Derek. Come with me. And just remember that if you say no I can always just _make_ you.”

So he ended up going with her, albeit reluctantly and sleepily. They reached the facility at about 4 in the morning, broke in easily, and even found the room where the testing was being done on the “mutants.”

“ _Rabbits, Laura_?” Derek hissed quietly, staring into red beady eyes through a tall cage. “ _We drove all the way here at 3 in the morning for rabbits?”_

“ _Mutant_ rabbits! Being tested on by evil, evil corporations!” she replied, unlocking the cage and handing Derek a rabbit with instructions that he should put it out of the window so that it could escape. It took them about ten minutes to free all of the rabbits, Derek complaining then entire time about being related to his over-caring big sister who’ll drive two hours at 3 in the morning to save some dumb rabbits.

“You’d better hope none of those things has a dangerous mutation,” he told her as they quietly snuck around a wall to avoid a guard on their way out.

“They never give the test ones dangerous mutations,” she quelled him, though he wasn’t totally sure he bought it. He was about to tell her just that when they rounded a corner and bumped right into a guard, a big one. Actually, physically, huge, like the size of a horse if it stood up on it’s back legs. The guard had two fuzzy white bunny ears sticking out of the sides of his head. And whiskers.

Genetic mutation was some scary—and oddly hilarious—stuff.

Derek nudged Laura to get her to use her power on rabbit-man before he could call any other guards over (did some have monkey tails? Scaly skin like a lizard?) but it was too late, Derek heard three more coming behind them and that as when he knew they were stuck—Laura’s power only works on one person at a time.

The rabbit-men dragged them down to the nearest police station on charges of trespassing and theft, handed them over to the police chief and left. The two of them sat in a cell for several hours before the early morning shift of office-working police came in and told them they have one call. Laura accepted happily and ten minutes later the two of them were being released.

His sister was smiling wide when they let him out of the cell and once again he didn’t have to ask what she’d done before he saw it in her head.

“You called the Sheriff _again_ , Laura? You can’t keep using him to get out of jail every week.”

“Oh, come on, Derek. What good is your brother’s mate’s father if he can’t get you out of jail every now and then? And anyway,” she shrugged, “he’s pack.”

Derek shifted uncomfortably, a tingling sensation blooming at the back of his head and the sound of waves against rock.

“Stop using that word,” he whined, slumping into the driver’s seat of his car.

“What word? Pack? We are werewolves, Derek.”

“No,” he grumbled, ignoring the tingling at the back of his skull that started when she said the word ‘mate.’ He stared off into the sky; the sun was just rising in the distance. “We still don’t even know if we really are…” he trailed off.

“Deaton seemed pretty sure,” she told him. “Hey, you want breakfast?”

She made him stop at a tiny diner on the way back into the city so they could eat and raved about how nice Sheriff Stilinski was on the phone.

“Speaking of pack,” Derek finally derailed her halfway through his cup of coffee, “have you heard from Uncle Peter recently?”

She waved him off.

“I’m not worried about Uncle Peter. He can take care of himself.”

“That’s kind of what I was worried about,” he told her, but she wasn’t going to be easily distracted.

“Speaking of _Beacon Hills_ ,” she grinned. “Are you excited about tomorrow?”

He steadfast refused to answer the question (the tingling hadn’t gone away yet. It rarely did these days) and continued eating his breakfast.

By the time they got home it was time for Derek to go to work. After graduating Beacon Hills Mutant High School Derek had gone back to New York with his sister and got a job as in private security. He was usually hired by prestigious organizations for large events that could be the target of an attack. Not only could he use his telepathy to search out anyone potentially harmful, he could usually take them down on his own without anyone noticing.

He didn’t want to brag, but the paychecks were nothing to sneeze at. Though that didn’t always mean it wasn’t a mostly boring job.

He was already exhausted when he arrived at the venue; a rally for a political campaign that had already been the target of several attempted attacks because the woman campaigning was a mutant senator running for reelection. Tensions had calmed down a lot in the years since the Leak, but there were still those unaffected by it that hated the mutants, especially those that were fighting for mutant rights.

And sure enough, to make Derek’s day even worse, halfway through the rally a small group of humans tried to start some kind of riot—or, at least, _thought_ they would start some kind of riot. Derek barely caught them before they rushed the stage, had to tackle the biggest one and almost caused a disturbance all on his own. But in the end the group was carted away by the cops.

Derek spent the rest of the day tailing the senator as she made stops at several other venues and lunches and meetings. It was boring and Derek kept yawning every three minutes because he hadn’t gotten any sleep. The long, boring day certainly didn’t help him ignore the thoughts in his own head (or the familiar splashing against the rock).

Derek hadn’t told Stiles that Professor Deaton believed they were mates. It wasn’t that he was worried Stiles would freak out… Alright, he was a little worried Stiles would freak out. _Mates_ was a unique concept even for a mutant to deal with and he just wasn’t sure he should put that kind of pressure on someone who wasn’t even out of high school yet.

Stiles had been upset when Derek left Beacon Hills after graduating but he got over it pretty quickly. They talked every day and Stiles had already been accepted to NYU and was planning on moving to New York as soon as he was done with school. He’d already found them an apartment (Derek was going to pay for most of it for a while) and they were moving in together, which might have seemed like a big deal to Derek if it weren’t for the whole _mates_ thing.

Because, yeah. _Mates_.

Derek had decided that he was going to tell Stiles after graduation. The only problem was that Stiles’ graduation was… tomorrow.

He was catching a flight to Beacon Hills at seven in the morning to make it for the ceremony and he was already nervous about how Stiles would react to the idea that Derek was the one person he was destined to be with for the rest of his life. It was a lot to handle. And it was supposed to be so rare that Derek still has a hard time believing it could be true—though the evidence in support of it _was_ pretty convincing.

It was fairly late by the time he’d been relieved and allowed to go home and he was starving despite the fact that he’d been snacking on the catered snacks at every stop they’d made. He picked up a pizza on his way home, surprised to find when he checked his phone that it was only about nine. If he went to bed after the pizza he might get a decent night’s sleep before his flight.

He’d already eaten two slices before settling down and opening his laptop to watch an episode of something on Netflix before bed, but before he could open chrome he noticed a little red tag on the skype icon on his dash. He clicked it, assuming it was Boyd with some work horror story for him to laugh about, instead he saw Stiles’ username, TheGr8Stilinski, flashing with a new message.

He and Stiles hadn’t used skype since high school.

When he clicked it open and read it he snorted. It was only sent ten minutes before so he went ahead and replied.

TheGr8Stilinski: _you still up?_

DerekHale24: _Why r u being ridiculous?_

_(Typing…)_

_I’m not being ridiculous!_ Stiles’ voice filled his head. Derek closed his laptop and lay back on the bed. _You’ve been practically shutting me out all day. I was making sure you were still alive._

 _I think you would know if I died,_ Derek replied, mentally rolling his eyes.

_Well, a boyfriend can be worried, can’t he? After the whole daring, dangerous bunny rescue mission and all._

Derek groaned. _She told you._ He could sense Stiles smirking and it made him warm. He probably wouldn’t have lasted a week in New York without Stiles if they’d only has skype to communicate, but he knew the moment he got off the plane that his mental connection to Stiles was as strong as ever. He could feel Stiles’ anxiety that Derek would move on and find someone else in New York, and Stiles’ loneliness when he sat in his room thinking about all the times Derek climbed through his window in the middle of the night to visit him.

Derek had wanted nothing more than to wrap Stiles up in his arms and make him feel better and just when he thought that, Stiles felt him there and both of them realized simultaneously that they could still hear and sense each other perfectly, despite the miles and miles between them.

Everything had been easier then. It wasn’t even like they were in different rooms let alone different states. Derek just had to reach out and Stiles was there. He should have known then that there was a deeper connection than just normal telepathy.

_Do you have pizza? Lucky, I’m starving. Dad’s working late and I don’t feel like cooking. Today was so boring, I was yawning every five minutes, Derek. I can’t believe Finstock said he’d fail us if we didn’t show up the last day of school. Fun killer._

_Are you nervous about tomorrow?_ Derek learned early on he needed to cut Stiles off before he went on a full-scale tangent inside Derek’s head.

He felt Stiles’ anxiety without him having to say it.

 _No,_ Stiles answered.

 _It’s just walking across a stage. What is there to be nervous about?_ Derek asked.

It was a minute before Stiles’ thoughts focused enough for him to reply, the pause was thoughtful and a little secretive.

It wasn’t as though hiding things from each other was easy with the two-way radio inside their heads, but it was possible, and they both understood and trusted each other enough to know that any secrets they wanted to keep were probably for the best anyway. Derek had been keeping the whole mates thing to himself for months but he knew Stiles suspected something, just like Derek suspected Stiles had been keeping something from him.

 _It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you,_ Stiles finally admitted.

 _I know,_ Derek agreed. _What if you forgot how to kiss?_

Stiles scoffed at him but his anxiety didn’t waver. It seemed to Derek that it barely had anything to do with graduation at all. He was about to just ask Stiles what was bothering him when Stiles’ thoughts cut him off.

_I have a surprise for you._

_Oh yeah?_

_Mhm. You know how we had a Control final and Ms. Morrell made me burst as far as I could and I had to practice all the time?_

_Yeah?_

_And during the final I burst all the way to the interstate—_

_—and nearly got run over by a car,_ Derek reminded him. That had been a particularly stressful time to share his mind with Stiles, as his fear and adrenaline came coursing from him to Derek on the other side of the country.

— _yeah, yeah. And then I made it back but I thought I could go farther?_

_Yes… Stiles, what is this about?_

_You’ll see._

There was a hot, painful compression in his skull all of the sudden and he couldn’t hear Stiles but it was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. Derek just had enough time to wonder what happened when it started again and only stopped when he felt something land heavily on the other end of the bed. He blinked away the pain, squeezing his eyebrows together where it burned hottest at the front of his head, and then he opened his eyes to see his boyfriend half-falling off the edge of his mattress.

“Stiles?” he asked slowly as Stiles stared around him wildly, touching all over himself like he was checking to see if he left anything behind.

Wide brown eyes turned to him, mouth open in shock. Derek was having a hard time figuring out if he wanted to check every inch of Stiles to make sure he was okay or if, instead, he wanted to kiss every inch of Stiles to make sure he smelled like Derek again.

“I made it…” Stiles muttered, then a grin broke out, splitting his face in two. “I made it! Derek, I—“

Midsentence, his limbs fell like the strings on them were cut and his eyes started to roll back into his head. Derek reached out his arms and caught his body before it slid from the bed to the floor.

“ _Stiles_!”

* * *

 

The scientists say that the Leak activated different sets of mutant genes in different people. They came up with an algorithm to determine probabilities of a person getting a certain type of mutant ability—flying .0084%, super-strength .022%, invincibility .0068%, etc.

Out of all the probabilities and all the odds and all the mutations, Derek has to say he’s pretty lucky to have gotten the power of Telepathy.

If he’d been given invisibility he probably wouldn’t be sitting on an airplane next to his boyfriend (probably more) who keeps smiling at him and _will not stop thinking about dicks._

 _“Can you stop thinking about dicks?”_ Derek hush-whispered into Stiles’ ear so the old man sitting on Derek’s other side wouldn’t hear him.

“Not _dicks,_ ” Stiles grinned, his eyelashes shading his eyes, “just _one_ dick.”

Derek flushed, turning away and trying to block Stiles out of his head. It was tricky with him sitting so close—he couldn’t even scoot over so their arms weren’t touching or he’d bump into the old guy who, he just noticed, had gone to sleep.

“Oh, come on, Derek!” Stiles twisted in his small economy seat to face Derek. “I didn’t know I would pass out after I burst that far! It was the first time I’d ever done it! I mean, sure, I thought maybe I’d be a little woozy but I was hoping to surprise you with a little—“

 _Stiles!_ Derek cut him off, sighing and sinking into his seat. He was exhausted.

_Is this really the best time to talk about this, and especially out loud?_

_Of course!_ Stiles replied instantly. _I know you’re mad—_

_I’m not mad, I’m just worried about—_

_—but you can’t stay mad forever! And I haven’t seen you in forever. Can you blame me for wishing last night had gone a little differently?_

_We both wish last night had gone a little differently._

Derek’s initial panic upon seeing Stiles faint in his arms passed when he calmed down enough to register that all of Stiles’ vitals and brain-activity seemed normal. The effort of bursting across an entire continent had just sapped all of his energy and Derek was sure he wouldn’t wake for at least an hour.

He called Stiles’ Dad right away, explaining what happened and why the Sheriff’s son wasn’t in his bed and was instead on the other side of America the day before his high school graduation. The Sheriff hadn’t been surprised as much as resigned and made Derek responsible for getting Stiles to his ceremony on time. Derek somehow managed to buy Stiles a ticket on his flight (thank god Stiles had his ID on him when he burst) and Stiles had woken up just in time to go through security.

 _Sorry you had to pay for an extra plane ticket…_ Stiles thought sheepishly.

_It’s alright, Laura let me use her miles._

_…Are you still mad?_

_I told you, I’m not mad. I just can’t believe you would risk yourself like that. When I met you, you could barely burst across a football field. And you tried to go across the entire country?_

_I_ did _go across the entire country._ Stiles’ thoughts were mildly smug and Derek exhaled sharply from his nose.

_A moot point._

_I told you, Derek, I’ve been practicing for months! I went all the way to San Diego and back in February and then I went to Washington and then South Dakota. I was sure I could make it—and I just couldn’t wait any longer to see you!_

_You couldn’t wait 12 hours?_ Derek snorted.

 _No,_ Stiles thought at him. It was earnest and Derek could tell Stiles really meant it.

He had to admit, a small part of him had been suffering too. It was hard being away from your mate—

 _From your what?_ Stiles asked, tilting his head curiously, and Derek’s stomach dropped to the ground—thirty thousand feet below him.

 _Nothing,_ he deflected quickly. _I wouldn’t be mad at all if you hadn’t passed out like that. I missed you too, you know._

 _Oh yeah? How much did you miss me?_ Stiles teased, thinking about Derek leaning over and kissing him, so Derek rolled his eyes and did it. Just a quick peck on the lips though Stiles whined for more. When Derek didn’t consent to give him any he huffed and unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping into the aisle and mentally telling Derek he was going to the bathroom.

Derek settled down in his seat. There was something relaxing about being so near Stiles again. It was like all that time they were apart his muscles had been tense but as soon as he could smell Stiles and touch him again, all that tension he hadn’t known he was holding just eased. The water was gentle again and the sun shone on the rock.

Stiles was gone about forty seconds before Derek noticed the first sensation. His stomach flipped over and he adjusted in his seat. It was very sudden but he was sure it was just the plane. They probably dropped a few inches or got pushed by a big gust of wind.

Then he grew hot and uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. His breathing grew faster and all his senses felt overly sensitized. He opened his eyes, wondering why Stiles was taking so long.

_Derek?_

_Stiles. Something’s wrong. Are you okay?_

_I’m… I’m fine._

_That was a lie! Tell me what’s wrong._

_I could just show you..._ Stiles’ ‘voice’ seemed off, hesitant, and Derek was so uncomfortable he had to try to keep his claws from extending.

Then Stiles did as he said he would and he showed Derek what was keeping him. It was tricky to do, but if they concentrated, Derek or Stiles could use Derek’s power to see through each other’s eyes. Derek had been able to see through a few others’ eyes when the situation called for it, but it was much more difficult than trying it with Stiles. Stiles just let him in, and when Derek opened Stiles’ eyes he saw Stiles in the airplane bathroom mirror—pants unzipped and one hand stuck down the front of his boxers.

“ _Stiles_ ,” Derek breathed, but it came out of Stiles’ mouth, another trick that seemed to only work between Derek and his _mate_. He could even feel Stiles’ hand around his dick like it was his own. It felt so good Derek almost groaned aloud, back in his own body.

 _What do you think?_ Stiles asked, stroking his cock gently.

 _You shouldn’t be doing this,_ Derek told him. _It’s—fuck—you can’t just—we’re on a plane, Stiles! There’s other people and you—jesus, shit._

 _It feels so good to be near you again. I almost forgot how horny you make me, just by, like,_ existing _! It isn’t fair. You can’t blame me._

 _Yes I can._ Derek replied, though it lost some weight when he let a groan slip from Stiles’ mouth at the same time.

Stiles didn’t seem like he was planning on stopping and Derek tried to retreat his thoughts back to his own brain but even there he could still feel every thing—every sensation, every gasp, every stomach-flipping, heart-pounding surge of _want_ coming from the airplane bathroom. Stiles was determined to talk to him through the whole thing.

 _I know we’ve done this a hundred times while you were in New York,_ he started, precum leaking from the tip of his dick, _but it feels so different now. I’m in your head but you’re so close. I want you, I love the way you taste, Derek._

 _Your scent drives me crazy,_ Derek confessed, trying to act like he wasn’t halfway to being hard as a rock in his seat. The man in the window seat seemed to be snoring. _I forgot how much it makes my head spin._

A shock of lust surged telepathically from Stiles to Derek (Derek wasn’t sure he even had a stomach anymore).

_Oh, god, Derek you know I lose it when you talk like that. I—I know you’re a werewolf but I forget sometimes, how you see me. Fuck, this feels so good. Want to kiss you, want you to bite me, hold me, Derek—_

_Stiles, please,_ Derek begged, painfully aware of how fast Stiles was already stroking himself, how his legs were starting to shake and he had to lean against the feeble counter to keep his balance. He could feel Stiles remembering what it was like when Derek let himself be a little wild, let his teeth just press so sweetly into Stiles’ smooth, white skin.

The memory of the last time he did it—the last night they’d been together before Derek left for New York—sizzled his skin and melted his brain. His claws were extended and pressing into the seat cushion (it probably wouldn’t be very useful as a floatation device after Derek was through with it).

 _Derek, fuck!_ Stiles’ thoughts were frazzled and hot, burning across Derek’s mind, blistering over his skin. His pants and boxers were down to his knees and his cock was straining in his hand as Stiles pumped it. _You’re so close, Derek. So close and I can’t touch you! I’ve gotta come, ive’ gotta—_

 _Wait!_ Derek sprang up from his seat, somehow managing to move to the back of the plane without too many passengers paying him much attention. Stiles slid the lock open the second he approached it and he slipped inside, pressing against Stiles’ body because there was no other room.

“Der—“ Stiles began, but Derek cut him off with a kiss before he could finish. Stiles groaned low and loud.

 _Quiet!_ Derek tried to hush him, then Stiles bucked his hips against Derek’s erection and Derek had his own moan to stifle.

 _Derek, please. I’m so close,_ Stiles pleaded at the same time as Derek deepened their kiss and tried to free his dick from inside his jeans. Stiles helped him, breathing heavily against Derek’s cheek when they broke the kiss to breathe.

The bathroom was tiny and didn’t smell great and it was hard to do anything but stand and stroke their cocks together but Derek couldn’t have cared less. His heart was beating in his chest. He was close but trying to get there faster because Stiles was only just barely holding back.

 _Wait for me, wait for me for just a second, wait,_ he repeated, and Stiles nodded, covering his own mouth with his free hand, his other hand helping them balance by pressing against the wall as Derek stroked them together. Derek could feel Stiles’ arousal as well as his own, had missed how easy it was to get Stiles’ limbs to go weak, his brain turn to mush.

They hit some turbulence and fell into the door. Derek really hoped no one heard the noise they made. He steadied them, Stiles leaning against Derek’s front, head pressing into his shoulder as Derek cursed around Stiles’ name as quietly as he could, bucking his hips in a steady rhythm.

They’d only ever attempted semi-public sex once before and it had ended in embarrassment and horror for both of them, but the rush they felt this time was incredible—though maybe it was just because it had been so long since they had touched each other.

_Derek—_

“ _I know, I—“_ Derek couldn’t tell for sure if he finished the thought in his head or aloud, but if it was aloud then it came out more as a deep, rumbling groan than real words. He came, trying desperately to keep it contained in his hand but some shot on Stiles’ lower belly—not that it really mattered because Stiles hadn’t been able to hold back any longer and had come just before him, getting semen all over Derek’s belt and the top of his pants and it was definitely going to stain and _crap on a stick_ the Sheriff was picking them up at the airport and would totally notice a huge cumstain on Derek’s fucking pants.

But it was a little too much to worry about that just then, with Stiles breathing heavy against his neck, mouth moving against his skin in not-quite-kisses but something close. They were like that barely a minute when they heard a _ding_ and the head flight attendant’s voice come over the speakers,

“Attention passengers, we are expecting to experience some turbulence in the next few minutes, so the captain has turned on our fasten seatbelt signs. We will be serving snacks and beverages once the sky has cleared a bit more.”

Derek sighed, his chin resting on Stiles’ shoulder. His legs felt like jelly and his whole body seemed like it was made of cotton balls. He was not in what anyone would call a comfortable position, but he didn’t want to move either.

“I love you,” Stiles exhaled, circling his arms around Derek and rubbing his face (and his _scent_ ) against Derek’s chest. He probably heard the way Derek’s heart stuttered at his words and Stiles laughed.

“Dude, I tell you I love you all the time.”

“It’s been a while since I heard it out loud,” Derek admitted. Then he added, “I love you, too, but we really need to go back to our seats.”

Stiles whined and held onto Derek tighter. Derek put his nose so close to Stiles’ skin that he could smell nothing of the airplane but Stiles. Something forceful and possessive purred inside him.

 _Those two have been in the bathroom for a while,_ a voice Derek recognized as the flight attendant’s thought inside his head. _Usually it doesn’t take the guys that long to get off. I’m glad I don’t have to clean the bathroom today. It’s totally gonna smell like sex. Euuchk._

Derek flushed, groaning and closing his eyes.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“The flight attendant knows what we were doing.”

Stiles grinned wide, surprising him. He looked giddy, stepping back as far as he could and practically bouncing with joy until the plane rattled and he toppled into Derek again.

“Why are you so excited about this? Its _embarrassing_.”

“Are you kidding? Derek, we just joined the _coolest_ , most elite club _that you can join_! The mile high—“

“I know what the mile high club is, Stiles,” Derek interrupted him, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt, all while rolling his eyes.

He glanced in the mirror to see how bad it was. It wasn’t as bad as he thought. All he had to do was tuck in his shirt and fix his hair and only someone like the flight attendant, who was probably used to that sort of thing, would know what they had been doing.

“I’ll go back first.”

“If they already know, can’t we just go back to—“

“No,” Derek answered, opening and closing the door before Stiles could argue.

A few passengers nearest the bathrooms certainly were thinking the same thing the flight attendant was, but most of them kept their thoughts to themselves. One girl blatantly ogled him as he passed her but then he was back in his seat and happy to find that the old man beside him was fast asleep. He wouldn’t have noticed a thing.

About a minute and a half later Stiles appeared in the seat next to him, practically beaming. He turned his grin to Derek and leaned over to whisper gleefully,

“Derek, guess what I’m on?”

Derek eyed him suspiciously.

“What?” he asked.

Stiles pointed past Derek and past the sleeping man at the small window where it looked to Derek like the plane was flying through a smoky grey cloud.

“I’m on cloud nine.”

* * *

 

“Aaaaah ha ha haa,” Stiles chuckled awkwardly, walking towards the Sheriff with outstretched arms. “There’s my favorite Father. Have I told you lately how much I love you? You’re so kind and forgiving and always in a happy, cheerful mood.”

“Ah, there’s my idiot son,” came the sheriff’s blunt reply. Derek had to work hard to keep his face from flushing when he looked into the Sheriff’s eyes.

“Derek,” he nodded, outstretching a hand. “Good to see you again.”

Derek took his hand and shook it firmly. As he did, he felt an emotion pass from the sheriff to himself, thanks to his power. It felt something like affection and it reminded Derek of… family.

“Don’t worry, son,” The sheriff grinned, slapping a hand across his shoulders, “I don’t blame you for this whole mess. I know a Stiles’ plan when I see one—they’re never very well thought-out, see.”

“Hey!” Stiles objected.

“Yeah, it was definitely a surprise,” Derek said, agreeing with the sheriff.

“ _Hey_!”

Stiles’ dad laughed again and started leading the three of them to the baggage claim to get Derek’s bags.

Though he wasn’t intentionally trying to read his thoughts, Derek heard something slip from the sheriff’s consciousness that made him almost trip over his own feet.

_I don’t know what my son did to deserve this kid._

Derek could feel himself smiling like an idiot but he couldn’t stop, and then as the sheriff was going on about Scott calling their house a hundred times the night before, Derek heard Stiles’ voice in his head.

 _Did you hear that?_ He asked giddily. _He called you_ son _!_

 _Yeah_ , Derek answered, and subtly linked his hand with Stiles’ as they walked through the crowded airport.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur that rushed by faster than Derek could keep up with. They raced from the airport back to Stiles’ house at which point Derek realized, horrified, that he hadn’t booked a hotel and had no idea where he was going to stay. He started to say he could stay at his old house, but considering his Uncle had skipped town and no one had heard from him for months he wasn’t very enthusiastic about staying in that house by himself. That was when the Sheriff firmly asserted that he would, of course, be staying at their house.

(He cleared his throat and stared straight ahead of him as he added, “on the couch, of course.”)

Once they were home Stiles had to hop in the shower right away and start getting ready for his graduation ceremony. It wasn’t until Stiles grabbed a small pile of index cards and started reading over them under his breath that Derek remembered.

“You’re the salutatorian. I forgot.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m as surprised as you are. I mean, obviously I wasn’t gonna be valedictorian because Lydia, you know, exists, but still. Not bad, right?”

“Your dad must be proud,” he said, and though Stiles smiled, he couldn’t hide the pressure of sadness that erupted within his head and flowed straight into Derek’s mind. Derek didn’t have to ask where the feeling came from. He just put his hands on Stiles’, stilling whatever movement he was doing, and thought gently,

 _Your mom would be proud of you, too_.

Stiles looked up at him and Derek wanted to tell him right then and there, _we’re mates_ , but suddenly they were kissing and the thought flew from his head faster than it had appeared. He would deal with it later. Probably.

They wasted quite a bit of time making out before the sheriff came to find them, Derek’s power helpfully alerting him just before he entered the room, though based on the sheriff’s thought’s he was still suspicious.

“Hurry up,” he said. “If we don’t leave soon we’ll be late.”

“Late?” Stiles repeated slyly, and the next second he was standing by the front door. “Not a chance.”

* * *

 

They got to the school with time to spare, in part because the sheriff insisted on turning on the lights and sirens as they weaved through the minimal Beacon Hills traffic in order to let the town know that the sheriff’s son was on his way to graduation, much to Stiles’ utter horror and embarrassment.

(“A son only graduates from high school once. Can’t you let your old man enjoy it?”

“THAT WAS MRS. GREENBERG YOU JUST CUT OFF. DAD, SERIOUSLY, TURN OFF THE—“

“I’m sorry Stiles I can’t hear you over the sirens. Oh, look, Mrs. Greenberg is waving! She’s probably so proud of you.”

“I SWEAR I WILL BURST THE REST OF THE WAY TO SCHOOL. I WILL ABANDON DEREK, DAD.”

“Stiles!”

“I’m sorry Derek but this is war.”)

Needless to say, they made quite the scene when they arrived and Stiles was beet red when Derek pulled him from the car towards the crowd of laughing people. Almost instantly, as if he shared Stiles’ bursting power, Scott appeared in front of them.

“I’ll go find our seats,” the sheriff told Derek, walking towards the football field where the ceremony was being held.

“Stiles! Holy shit, I can’t believe you actually did it!” Scott punched his best friend in the shoulder, expression both awed and humored. “And you didn’t even leave anything behind?”

“No,” Stiles replied, and lowered his voice, “And I thought we agreed not to talk about the sailor moon boxers incident.”

Scott and Derek laughed at the same time, Derek watching the memory of the incident in Scott’s head.

“Hey Derek,” Scott said, punching Derek the same way he’d punched Stiles.

“Glad you made it to graduation, Scott,” Derek replied.

“Scott! Stiles! They want us to line up!” Erica’s voice called out from the doorway. “Hi Derek!”

He waved before she disappeared back inside.

“Okay, I guess we have to go,” Stiles glanced at his watch. “We’re gonna meet up with the rest of the gang after the thing is done, so you can say hi. Wish me luck?”

 _Good luck,_ Derek thought to him, and Stiles pecked him lightly on the lips before bursting all the way to the building and yelling back impatiently,

“Hurry up, Scott! What’re you doing over there still? We haven’t got all day!”

“Oh, come on, Stiles, that’s cheating!” Scott replied, racing ahead to catch up.

Derek started making his way in the direction the sheriff had gone, through the building towards the field, but was distracted on his way and nearly ran into Dr. Deaton as he rounded a corner.

“Excuse me,” he said. Dr. Deaton smiled at him, his thoughts as serene as ever.

“I will assume that my power controlling instruction was effective, considering you would have known I was rounding the corner if you’d been reading my thoughts. It’s good to see you again, Derek. How is the telepathy treating you?”

“Oh. It’s, um, fine? I don’t notice it that much anymore. So I guess it’s good?”

“That’s good to hear,” Deaton said, and Derek could see in his head that he meant it. “And I suppose I can assume, with you being here for graduation, that things between you and your mate are going well also?”

Perhaps it was simply because Deaton mentioned Stiles when Derek hadn’t been expecting it, but without intending to Derek’s mind synced with Stiles. He was standing in line behind Erica and he was just as surprised as Derek was to sense his thoughts. And then his surprise turned to curiosity.

 _What’s a mate?_ Stiles asked playfully, and Derek could feel him pressing through Derek’s head for the answer.

 _Stiles—_ Derek tried to push him out but then it was too late.

The last emotion he felt from Stiles’ mind was a hot panic before Stiles pushed him out of his head and slammed the figurative doors in Derek’s face.

It had all happened so fast Deaton didn’t even realize what had occurred, though he could tell something was wrong when Derek was too stunned to answer his question.

“Derek?” he asked off, and then over the intercoms someone called for everyone who hadn’t taken their seats to find them as the graduation was going to start in the next 10 to 15 minutes.

“I supposed they’ll want me on the stage soon. I’m sure we can catch up after the ceremony.”

He walked past Derek and out of the doors, patting him on the shoulder as he went, completely oblivious to the tailspin he’d so innocently sent Derek’s life into with just a few words. Derek stood in the hallway for several minutes after, his hands clenched into fists.

He tried calling out to Stiles with his thoughts over and over again, desperate for an answer, to know that Stiles was okay with it, mates and all. But he got nothing in reply and he couldn’t help but remember the panic he’d felt and all that time he’d kept the truth about their bond a secret was exactly because of something like this! It was an overwhelming concept and too much to expect Stiles to handle. They were still young and they had their whole lives ahead of them; Derek knew it was a lot to expect someone to only love one person his entire life just because of some biological destined crap that he had no control over.

He’d been panicked when he first realized what all the little things—their mental and physical connection, his body’s desire to be near Stiles, the way his wolf preened and purred when Stiles was around—all tied to the rare, predetermined idea of ‘mates’ that Derek had, until then, heard of only in urban legend terms. _“My cousin’s best friend’s girlfriend had to dump him because she found her mate.”_ Derek hadn’t even believed it could be true at first but there was something about it that made it impossible not to _know_ when you found your mate. Part of him had been hoping just a little that the same knowing would come to Stiles and he wouldn’t even have to be the one to tell him, but considering that mating occurred most often in werefolk he eventually realized that the mate bond didn’t impact Stiles the same way it did Derek.

And now here he was, cut off from his mate’s mind because he hadn’t told him the truth soon enough. It was the worst way for Stiles to find out. If Derek had been able to sit him down and talk to him then—

“Derek,” the sheriff interrupted his thought process, poking his head around a corner. “There you are! The ceremony is about to start. Come on, I’ll show you where our seats are.”

Derek had no choice but to follow obediently. He didn’t say a word as they squeezed past people to get to their seats and when he saw down he stared at his feet, unwilling to look to where Stiles was seated. Unfortunately the sheriff nudged his shoulder, pointing into the seats closer to the stage.

“See, there’s Stiles. Damn, I’m more emotional than I thought I’d be. Claudia would be so proud.”

Derek’s eyes followed to where he was pointing. Stiles was easy to pick out from the crowd even if he was staring ahead at the stage and wearing the same golden robes and cap as everyone sitting around him. Derek felt his heart sink when he noticed how Stiles was holding himself, uncomfortably, like he wanted to be anywhere else. Derek wanted nothing more then to call out to him, to apologize, to make him understand somehow that Derek wouldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want. It was part of having a mate that Derek instinctually knew, he would do whatever it took to make his mate happy. If that meant not being able to be with him then he would do that, too, even if it meant breaking his own heart.

Soon the ceremony started. The principle gave a few remarks about a great year and a great class, and then announced the Salutatorian and Derek’s pulse raced—he’d completely forgotten that Stiles was giving a speech!

Stiles walked to the stage and began speaking. If Derek didn’t know any better he would have thought that nothing was wrong. Stiles didn’t make a single error. He spoke well, was funny, smart, and everyone cheered when they were supposed to. Only once did his confidence seem to waver, when he delivered a line about all the friends he’d made in his years at school. Derek just wanted to talk to him, to tell him how great he was doing, to keep going. At the end of the speech he thanked, of all things, the Leak.

“Because if it wasn’t for the Leak I would never have been sent to this great school and gotten to meet all the… amazing people that I have.” Derek swore that for a moment Stiles looked towards the crowd straight at him but then Stiles smiled wide and finished the speech: “Congratulations graduates! Now let’s get this ceremony over so we can all get to that after party on time!”

Everyone cheered and then the principle began calling out names. Allison was the first to go onto the makeshift stage they’d set up in the middle of the field. He saw her parents cheering for her a few rows down. It didn’t bother him seeing them there; after Kate was dead they made a point to come and tell him they had wanted nothing to do with her and he believed them.

Boyd was the next student Derek recognized receiving his diploma. Ms. Morrell and Deaton were both on the stage and they shook hands with every student before he or she left the stage and returned to their seat.

Derek hadn’t gone to his graduation. He was leaving for New York the next day and it seemed stupid to waste any time he could have instead been spending with Stiles. Instead of a ceremony he picked up his diploma from the office and Stiles threw him a small party. Everyone was there and Stiles and Scott set off fireworks and Isaac and Boyd had made a ‘congrats grad/goodbye’ cake (the exact words that were written on the top in blue icing). That night was the first night Stiles had told him he loved him. When he was on the plane the next day, halfway to New York, all he could think about was how much he wished he could hear Stiles’ voice again, and then suddenly he could, in his head, as if there wasn’t two feet between them let alone two thousand miles.

More of Stiles’ friends accepted their diplomas, Scott, Lydia, and then Erica went to the stage and Stiles was standing just on the edge, waiting for his name to be called. He was still standing with his shoulder raised, tense. The Sheriff was holding his camera ready, thinking about how he probably wouldn’t end up getting the pictures developed but as a father it was his duty to make sure some at least got taken.

Melissa McCall, Scott’s mother, was much closer to the stage, already planning on taking pictures of Stiles and getting them printed when she was printing Scott’s so that the sheriff would have something to frame since his photos probably wouldn’t come out as well. Any other time Derek might have let himself wonder when Stiles’ Dad and Scott’s Mom were going to admit that they were attracted to one another, but he was too distracted, worrying about his own relationship (or what would become of it).

Suddenly Derek felt like he needed to be right there when Stiles got off the stage. He stood abruptly; ignoring how the sheriff pointed out that Stiles’ name had just been called. Derek practically ran through the seats, reaching the stairs that came down from the stage just as Stiles started to go down them. Halfway down Stiles noticed Derek and froze. The principle had already called the next name.

“Hey,” Derek managed weakly. Now that he was here he realized he didn’t know what to say.

“Hey,” Stiles replied, coming down the last few steps and moving to the side, more out of the way so fewer people could see them. There was an empty seat that Stiles was supposed to return to after getting his diploma but it seemed like neither of them cared.

“I should have told you,” Derek admitted quietly. “I know it’s… a lot.”

Something painful flashed across Stiles’ face. He lowered his gaze, passing his rolled up diploma from one hand to the other. Finally he exhaled, still staring at the ground.

“I should have known. I mean, I can read your _mind_! That’s not, like, normal. For me.”

Derek didn’t know what to say. He was so used to knowing in an instant what Stiles was thinking, what he was feeling, but this time all he could do was wait. He felt unbalanced, like the rocky island that jutted out in the middle of the ocean, the one he and Stiles shared, was teetering from side to side, blowing in the wind, carried by the currents below it.

“I should have known the first time I met you,” Stiles continued. “That first day… when you read my mind and told me to stop thinking so loud. I fell for you right then.”

Derek’s heart fluttered.

“And I thought you knew. The whole time, even before I _really_ started to fall for you. I was like, _‘oh my god, he can read my mind. He knows I like him. He hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want you and he’s trying to be polite!’_ But it just got worse and we were always spending time together and it hurt so _bad_ —“ he stopped himself, biting his lip hard, clenching his fists.

“And then you kissed me and everything felt, just, _right_ , you know? But you didn’t have any choice. _‘Biological instinct.’_ It makes sense. Of course you didn’t want to tell me that you never really wanted me.”

“No!” Derek practically shouted, stepping closer, physically grabbing Stiles by the shoulders. “Stiles, jesus! That isn’t—that’s not how it is! You have to, just—you have to read my mind. If you read my mind you’ll know if what you just said is true or not. Just let me prove it. I love you because _I love you_ , not because of some stupid destined conditioning. Read my mind and you’ll know! You’ll see!”

Stiles stared at him and the two of them weren’t even standing at the side of the stage anymore but atop the rock sitting in the middle of the crashing waves. Derek stared hard into Stiles eyes and thought about every feeling Stiles had ever made him feel, every thought he’d had about Stiles and how much he meant to him. He let it flow from his mind into Stiles’, every bit of it, all true.

They could have been like that for hours but Derek knew only seconds had passed and slowly, slowly, as Derek’s feelings for him flowed into Stiles’ mind, he just barely started to believe that they were true.

 _Derek,_ he thought, and Derek took a shallow breath. _We’re mates._

_Yeah._

_You’re a part of me! I get it now!_

_I love you,_ Derek thought, and then an enormous cheer went up behind them. Lydia had already delivered her Valedictorian speech. The ceremony was finished. Stiles and Derek both looked over just in time to see everyone toss their caps into the air. Derek looked back at Stiles who was smiling so hard he looked like it might crack his face. He plucked the cap off of Stiles’ head and threw it high.

Neither of them had any idea where it landed. They were far too busy doing something else to pay attention to some stupid hat.

* * *

 

After all the loose details were tied up, everyone was invited to Lydia’s house for a post-graduation party. Stiles high-fived everyone when they arrived, telling anyone who would listen that he couldn’t believe they made it. Scott and Allison stunned everyone—particularly their parents—by announcing their engagement at the party and at that point things got really wild.

At some point Stiles and Derek made their way out to the back porch. Everyone was inside congratulating Scott and Allison and it was quiet, the sun getting lower in the sky. They sat on the steps, Stiles on one just below Derek, leaning back against him, their hands wrapped together tight.

A calm, optimistic serenity passed between them. Now that it was out in the open it felt so good to share the knowledge of being a mate with his mate, like he and Stiles were finally together once and for all. Derek didn’t feel worried about anything anymore, but he was curious about the future and wondered aloud,

“You don’t start NYU until the fall. What were you planning on doing for the summer?”

“Well,” Stiles’ eyes sparkled in the low light, “I was thinking—“

“Aren’t you always?” Derek interrupted, grinning.

Stiles laughed. And then images serenely began to pass from his mind to Derek’s; beautiful pictures of sprawling green hills, crowded Italian villages, Incan ruins, the Great Wall of China, snowy mountains against clear skies, Tokyo at dusk, on and on and on.

“You want to travel?” Derek asked, surprised.

 _I want to travel with you,_ came Stiles’ silent reply. _My mate._

And for a moment it seemed to Derek that he really was sitting atop that familiar lone rock as waves splashed pleasantly against it’s stony bottom. Stiles was right at his side, hand in his, and together the two of them sat on their little island staring off into the distance, the whole world at their feet.

And then he was back on the stairs, but he still felt the same sense of whole-ness, and the feeling that everything was just the way it was meant to be.

“Besides,” Stiles added aloud, grinning from ear to ear, “I know a _really_ cheap way to travel.”

Derek stood, and he could tell by the look on Stiles’ face that he knew exactly what Derek was about to say.

_Then let’s get going._

Maybe mind-reading wasn’t the worst power Derek could have been given—after all, it led him to Stiles.


End file.
